


Hell Above

by thedalishparade



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: DC universe - Freeform, Ed is kind of OOC, Is Gotham considered to be canonical within the modern Batman universe?, M/M, Nygmobblepot Week 2018, Oswald is a siren, The Penguin - Freeform, The Riddler - Freeform, better late than never
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 02:32:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14126196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedalishparade/pseuds/thedalishparade
Summary: In that moment, he would have nothing less than the death of the man before him. In that moment, everything had been as black and white as the suits that his dead companion had so adored donning. He had lost his partner in crime over this, this desire that would soon consume him.





	Hell Above

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, I'm late for Nygmobblepot Week but oh well. I haven't edited this or anything so please excuse the rushed quality of my writing

Choke. Scream. _Decay_.

Ed’s relived the death of his best friend a million times in his mind.

Again and again, the images coalesce. Seeing Oswald begging through lens tinted red.

The cold metal, slippery in his sweaty grasp. A burning sensation faintly felt at the back of his neck, a vein pulsing in his forehead. Oswald’s eyes, the colour of the sky around them. Oswald plunging into the bitter sea, the sky staring right back at him, saying _how could you, Ed?_

How could he have?

In that moment, he would have nothing less than the death of the man before him. In that moment, everything had been as black and white as the suits that his dead companion had so adored donning. He had lost his partner in crime over _this_ , this _desire_ that would soon consume him.

The need, that is, to be loved. To be admired. By people he considered whole. People not including Oswald. The Penguin had his own demons.

And then there’s the _other_ him, the mirror image that represents everything that Ed had once wanted to be and now despises.

That is not him, the monster he once welcomed into his mind and soul, the beast that slew Oswald.

Ed wants nothing more than to sink in his guilt. He needs only the burn of salt to cleanse his soul- a life for a life. It is fair, is it not?

The water is just as cold as he imagines. Neither wit nor wordplay can save him now as the tide rips him asunder.

The salt is a needle pricking tears in the folds of his eyelids, clawing them open so he can see the new truth.

Edward Nygma is not the Riddler any more. Some distant piece of him is screaming, and will continue until the angels themselves come down in all their infernal glory.

A crooked smile plays on Ed’s lips. He’s finally defeated himself at his own game, and if it doesn’t work, he’ll return again and again to the pier, a roundabout of endless agony until his parasitic nemesis ceases this purgatory.

Ed doesn’t doubt his plan for a _second_.

His gaze turns skyward, and instead of meeting sullen murk, he finds himself staring into stained glass irises the colour of a clear day.

Ed smiles, and lets the alabaster fingers curl like ivy around his neck until he falls into a calm sleep.

He can rest easy, now and forever.


End file.
